


Show Me The Sugar

by WaitingToBeBroken



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is Spoiled, Crowley is whipped, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, POV Outsider, Pet Store, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), Sugar Daddy, That's it, They buy Pets, that's the story folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-12 04:30:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20159671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaitingToBeBroken/pseuds/WaitingToBeBroken
Summary: When the new "couple" moves in the cottage down the road, it's apparent to everyone what their Arrangement is.  Rachel, the owner of the pet shop they had just visited, is not so sure anymore.Whowas supposed to be the sugar father again?





	Show Me The Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning, this is very silly. It all comes from the fact I spent a whole Monday thinking how we, as a fandom, have decided that they definitely moved into a cottage in the South Downs and then kinda assumed people would think Crowley is Aziraphale's sugar baby because he appears so much younger. But then I thought, have they actually met Aziraphale though? Because he is honestly the most spoiled bastard in the world. Thus, this.

Why their little town needed a pet shop was beyond most of the townsfolk, its owner, Rachel, included. There were not a lot of people in the village who would visit her shop with the intention of buying something and not for simply sitting down for a cuppa to discuss, quite innocently really, what was new in the quiet place they called home. There were even less people who would have traveled from somewhere else specifically for her shop, even though it was quite unique.  
  
It really was.  
  
Not for good reasons, though.  
  
The thing was Rachel had an Arrangement with a few pet shops in London and every couple of months a few animals would arrive to join her little family. Those animals were not exactly... _desirable_. Oh, make no mistake, they were adorable as Hell and she loved them with all her heart. They just wouldn't be the first to be picked in a normal shop. Or the second. Or at all.  
  
It was easier to treat Rachel's business as a shelter, where she got to care for animals no one ever wanted and make their life as pain-free as possible, rather than a proper shop. It also gave her something to do now that John was starting university and Mr. Rachel was working on their other, _successful_, business.  
  
The woman liked it, it made her feel fulfilled in a way her city job as an engineer never really did and she knew no matter how much her husband moaned about _pouring money down the garbage disposal_ he was proper proud of her. There also weren't that many jobs for people such as Rachel. If you got her very drunk, or if you had eyes, really, you pretty much instantaneously noticed she did not like customers that much. Which was all perfect, because there weren't that many people who visited her shop.  
  
This, however, was about to change. Or not. Depending on your definition of people.  
  
It was Tuesday, 9 am sharp and she had been open for exactly 20 seconds when a Bentley screeched to a stop, an inch away from her display window. She had not had enough time to gather her wits and give the owner a proper scolding, which for her would be to tut a bit louder than normal, when the most mismatched couple jumped out of the car. They were still in the middle of an argument, the older one gesturing with his hands, while his face was simultaneously flushed and paler than Rachel thought was normal, while his companion just stood there, leaning against the car. Glasses were covering his face, making it very difficult to guess what was happening behind them, but even then Rachel had the feeling the man was growing exasperated.  
  
She had never seen them before. She knew them instantaneously.  
  
It wasn't often they had new people join their little village, so, of course, when the cottage just down the road from the park had been bought, everyone talked about it. Bets were made, theories were spread, but at the end of the day everyone just hoped it would be a simple, nice family. What they got, well, it wasn't that.  
  
Marielle, who was 10 months younger than Rachel, and thus, apparently, more 'hip' than her, although what that part of the body had anything to do with it, she had no idea and she was determined to never ask, had explained it to her. And then again, when the shopkeeper had just stared at her. At last, Rachel had understood that the tall young man, dressed in all black, was some sort of a kept thing for the older guy. There were all sorts of terminology, all involving sugar, but just like food in front of little Spot, they were gone the moment she tried to put them down.  
  
It was obvious then, that before the couple had even entered her shop, she felt for the young man. She didn't want to think what sort of life he had been living if he was ready to sleep with, and even worse, live together and share a life with, someone that he didn't love. Not that the older guy was particularly unattractive. There was a softness to him, that had nothing to do with his plump body, and she was sure, he would look quite angelic, once the frown was gone from his face.  
  
And she was right. The moment the older guy stepped through the threshold, and the other one had held the door open for him, what a gentleman, he smiled. The correct term would actually be beam, but Rachel was not able to focus enough to use it, once that radiant sunshine was directed at her.  
  
"Oh, what a lovely shop you have," the guy gushed, clasping his hands in front of his chest. "We have just moved, down the road, you see, and I told my dear Crowley, I said, we ought to see what our new community offers-"  
  
While the guy was babbling, somehow, surprisingly, never running out of breath, _Crowley_ took out his phone from jeans that most definitely did not look like they could fit anything in their pockets, but then again what did Rachel know about contemporary fashion. He started playing on it, a sort of bubble-popping sound squeaking out of it every few seconds. It was rather annoying and really impolite and she wondered how was he able to get away with such behaviour.  
  
"Angel," he finally sighed and the older guy shut his mouth right in the middle of comparing London ducks and the South Downs' ones.  
  
"Of course, terribly sorry, madam." He nodded politely, before beaming again. "Now, if you could point us in the direction of your most adorable animals?"  
  
At this, the taller man's head snapped up. There was a high-pitched whine coming from his phone, that signaled he probably died at whatever he was playing, and that noise was somehow perfectly mirrored on his face.  
  
"Aziraphale," he, Rachel wanted to say, growled. But that couldn't be right, could it. If she was paying for someone's love she would not have them talk to her like that. Then again, different strokes for different folks, she assumed. "You said we just came here to browse?"  
  
The older man waved a hand at him as he went into a random direction, probably having decided that nothing would keep him from the animals, not his partner's disapproval and certainly not the fact that the shopkeeper had still not said even a word to them both.  
  
Rachel watched as Aziraphale, was she pronouncing that right?, wandered her shop, stopping ever so often to gush at everything from puppies to spiders. The younger man followed him in a way that suggested he had probably learned how to walk from watching a snake slither. He honestly did not look happy to be there.  
  
Not that Rachel could blame him. Who dreamed that one day, when they were older, they would be selling their heart and body for money? He had probably wanted to be a policeman, or a lawyer, or judging from the way he was dressed- a rock star.  
  
"Oh look, my dear, a puppy," Aziraphale squealed in delight. If Rachel had thought the smile she had received when the two strange men had entered her shop was a beam of sunshine, then this was the Sun. Crowley, somehow, did not look even remotely fazed.  
  
"We are not getting a dog."  
  
"But he is adorable. And these spots he has on his back, don't they remind you of tiny wings? See, he is looking at us. How can you say no to that face!"  
  
"He is not actually looking at you," Rachel finally said from beside them and both men turned to her as if they had forgotten they were not alone in the world. She nodded meaningfully towards the white pup and watched as realisation downed on the older man.  
  
This was the point where any potential customers found a way to leave the shop in the fastest and most polite way. Aziraphale just beamed even warmer and crouched down, extending a hand which the dog happily nosed at.  
  
"Oh, you gorgeous thing. You are the most adorable puppy I have ever laid my eyes on, you are."  
  
There was a smile on Crowley's face as the older man pet the animal. One that disappeared almost immediately when his partner lifted his eyes and gave him a pleading look that would put even a puppy to shame.  
  
"No, Aziraphale. I'm not waking up at fuck o'clock every morning to walk a dog."  
  
"I promise I'll walk him, dear boy."  
  
Crowley snorted and presumably rolled his eyes. Rachel couldn't see but he did give that vibe. "Yeah, and when you find a book you like and forget the world exists for a month, then what?"  
  
This looked more and more interesting, considering the fact the older man was supposedly the one with the money and, therefore, the power. But instead of raising that point, he just blinked his eyes slowly, and were they getting larger?, and pursed his lips even more.  
  
Crowley looked like he was considering it. Maybe he was in love with him, the poor chap. Very 'Pretty Woman' of him, Rachel mused, but didn't dare say anything. It wasn't often that someone was interested in buying one of her pets.  
  
Finally, the taller man shook his head.  
  
"Let's see everything else and we will decide, okay, angel?" he asked almost gently, like he was afraid of hurting the other's feelings. Taking into account what was at stake, he probably did.  
  
They made such a strange couple, Rachel though as she watched them walk around. One was all sharp angles and even sharper attitude, while the other exuded kindness. And yet there was familiarity between them, one that didn't speak of a connection born of monetary reasons, but could only be cultivated with years, decades even of quiet love.  
  
But then again, maybe it was just an act for the people. Heaven knew, she was all familiar with men who looked like they couldn't hurt a fly turning into beasts behind closed doors.  
  
She almost gasped at the realisation that maybe that's why Crowley was so insistent on wearing sunglasses even indoors. That poor dear! Dropping everything, she rounded the corner they had disappeared behind just a moment ago and saw- she saw nothing nefarious.  
  
Aziraphale was almost pressing his face against a fish tank, his manicured nail drawing a symbol on the glass as the fish inside traced it happily. He turned to look at the other, but the younger man was shaking his head, gaze, presumably, still fixed on his phone.  
  
"No fish, angel. Can't take them anywhere when we travel. Besides, we would need a big enough tank to keep them and we don't have the space. Not with _your things_ around. Even this," he turned a knuckle towards the glass, but did not knock on it, "is way too small for them." There was no malice in his words and yet Rachel felt it like a jab at her. Yes, the tank was not ideal, but the upkeep on those cost a fortune. They were bleeding money as it was and, some years, it felt like the grant from the mayor was just enough to keep the lights on. It wasn't small enough to stress the fish, however, and she had done everything to make them feel better. There was not much else she could do.  
  
She considered leaving them to be and returning to the till but it was 9 am on a Tuesday and she had refreshed her Facebook feed twice already. Not to mention, even on the off chance the strange couple was going to adopt a pet, she couldn't let her hurt pride stand between one of her little friends and a forever home.  
  
Rachel watched as the older man practically bounced from one animal to the other, chattering happily, while the other glumly reminded him why, exactly, they could not adopt any of the animals Aziraphale was pointing excitedly at.  
  
"Crowley." And at last the older man looked just like someone who had paid for a certain type of companionship and was finding himself not liking the current deal. Rachel had known it was only a matter of time before the angelic looking man showed his horns. Her hand reached in her purse, ready to dial Michael- a retired police officer, who had no qualms about dusting the old badge.  
  
She had just managed to fish it out, and damn all the rubbish she kept in her purse, was that a receipt from the cafe that closed 2 years ago?, when something shocking happened. Without raising his head from the phone, without even stopping his incessant and quite loud tapping, Crowley leaned towards the other man and kissed his cheek. It was such a small moment and yet surprisingly romantic, and it made Rachel feel like she was intruding, like she had entered into their own home and found them cuddled in bed.  
  
Before she could even figure out what this all meant and maybe wonder if the whole village had been wrong about these two, the younger man was talking so softly she had to strain herself to listen. She still didn't catch much but what she did sounded surprisingly like, "Just choose whatever you like."  
  
"Anything?" If Aziraphale was not at least 40 and not a character in an old-time animation, Rachel would have sworn he jumped a feet off the ground.  
  
"Anything you want, angel." This was spoken loud enough, but even if it wasn't, she still would have been able to guess. It was perfectly clear from the warm way the older man was looking at his partner and the tentative way the taller man answered it.  
  
That little smile just about vanished the moment Aziraphale turned towards her and with an unusual glint in his eyes asked, "Madam, do you by any chance have any snakes?"  
  
The way the taller man growled reminded Rachel of a caged animal. The poor thing was probably deadly afraid of snakes and there was his sugar... father? was it, teasing him about it. It all seemed rather cruel, really.  
  
She usually stayed away from people's business, as she hoped they would with her, but now she was on the verge of a very long and very colourful lecture about the importance of respect in any relationship, when Aziraphale giggled like no man his age should, or should look cute while doing it, and, she really, really wanted to say, skipped away.  
  
Crowley watched after him for a second, an almost fond look only partially obscured by his glasses, before he turned to her. She had been stared down by a number of angry and/or terrified animals, and yet this look was the one that made shivers run down her spine. She guessed it was a look, really. Couldn't really tell, what with the glasses and everything.  
  
He sauntered towards her, swaying slightly, and she retracted her statement about the snake. He was moving like a tiger, ready to pounce.  
  
A startling thought entered her mind and refused to take its leave. How did that adorable old man end up with, with _this_?  
  
"The animal that's been here the longest. Where is it?" he hissed, leaning against a nearby wall. Rachel wanted to ask, "What?" but at the moment he certainly did not look like someone who liked repeating themselves.  
  
Without consulting her mind, her eyes were drawn to the far corner, where Cory was currently napping. The cat had been there practically since they opened, and even then he had been considered old. Ancient, really. He was a gorgeous Maine Coon, and the most gentle animal Rachel had ever known, but the fact he had been quite the fighter in his younger years put off even the most adoring cat fans.  
  
Crowley nodded, then turned to the cat.  
  
"Bring that pup, too," he commanded behind his shoulder and this, this was why Rachel did not like customers.  
  
By the time she managed to grab the puppy and return, both men had found themselves next to the cat, although she was quite sure the older man had been in a different room and she had not heard even a sound, let alone his partner calling for him. With a sinking feeling, she realised that this would be harder to sell to the pair of them and not only to the grumpy looking one. Aziraphale just looked like such a sweet man and certainly not the type to go for a cat that was more scar than black fur at this point.  
  
"Oh, he is simply perfect, isn't he, my dear?" Aziraphale whispered adoringly surprising both Rachel and Cory, who only needed a second to take in the unfamiliar hand running through his fur before he started nearly vibrating with pleasure.  
  
'Traitor,' she thought bitterly, but even that couldn't stop the spark of hope that filled her heart.  
  
Crowley just hummed, like he wasn't even listening and turned to her. Under his insistent stare, and again- shades but somehow she just _knew_, she handed the puppy and watched as the younger man cradled it gentle, before setting it down on the couch, next to Cory.  
  
"Oh my, aren't they getting along famously!"  
  
Aziraphale was right. The cat might have been harmless, too old now to put up a real fight, but he still very much enjoyed pretending he was that demon he had been, long ago. As such, he wasn't afraid of using his voice, or if all failed, his claws, to keep all the other animals away from him. Somehow, however, he let the little puppy stumble into him, and made no noise, except the tiniest of hisses, when the dog jumped on him excitedly.  
  
Crowley shrugged. Maybe he had wanted them to fight, Rachel thought in horror. He didn't look the type, but then again she didn't know _what_ to think about these two anymore.  
  
"Fine, we will take them," the younger man sighed and his body somehow braced itself, even before Aziraphale was turning to look at him and subsequently gathering him in his arms.  
  
"Are you certain, my dear?" And really no human was allowed to shine this brightly.  
  
"You woke me up at 9 am on a Tuesday to go _browse_ a pet shop. Of course I knew we were getting you that puppy."  
  
Crowley sounded tired and it somehow reminded her of Mr. Rachel's voice when she would come back from an innocent get-together with her friends that had somehow turned into a shopping spree.  
  
Maybe they weren't so bad after all.  
  
Rachel guided them to the register, almost anxious now, as if they were going to change their mind if she turned her head around. It was entirely irrational, as human and pet already appeared bonded, with the cat wrapped around Aziraphale's neck like a scarf, the sheer weight of him making the older man look slightly hunched. Even Crowley was cradling the pup with gentleness she hadn't expected.  
  
Before she even gave them the total, Crowley was extending a card towards her. It certainly was nothing strange, they had a card reader, of course, and yet somehow, even now, she had expected the other man to pay. However, at the moment he was whispering something to Cory, maybe he was preoccupied. She took a glance at the card, for security purposes she told herself, and noticed the name on it- A J Crowley. Aziraphale Crowley. Ah, so it was a family name. It did explain some things but raised far many more questions, like for example why would someone go by the name of their husband, instead of their own, given name? Maybe it was embarrassing? Or maybe that was part of the deal?  
  
She tried once again to give them their total and explain that while, yes, it was higher than normal, the animals came with all their shots and certificates, but Crowley just waved her off. Slightly perturbed, she dutifully typed in the sum, popped the card in and presented it to Aziraphale. It took a few pointed coughs before the older man was even paying attention to her and then a few pointed stares before he was... laughing?  
  
"Oh, no, my dear," he giggled, like the idea of him paying for anything was the funniest thing he had ever heard. "I don't deal with, well, money, really."  
  
Crowley smirked and she felt as if she had intruded on a very personal joke. Wordlessly, she passed the machine and watched as half of the man's face grimaced. There was a part of her that wanted to say that she had tried to warn them, but a bigger part wanted her animals to find a loving albeit very weird home, so she bit her tongue.  
  
A cursory glance, just to see if the payment had gone through. And she stared. Her mouth went dry. Somehow, some way, her damned machine had added _at least_ a couple of zeroes to the number, making it more than they ever made in a year. A good year.  
  
There was no way for her to return that money, not until it cleared with the bank and that could take days. Wide-eyed, she turned to Crowley, braving herself for the berating of a lifetime, he did look the type.  
  
Without even looking up from where his partner was trying to press the pup's nose into his, Crowley waved a hand at her.  
  
"Keep it. Maybe use it to buy those guys," he pointed a chin towards the fish, "a bigger aquarium."  
  
It was too much, she couldn't possibly accept this gift, handed to her as if it was a £5 note. The man finally lifted his head to look at her and shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly. His partner, well, to continue describing what his face was doing as a smile would be the same as to liken a supernova's warmth to that of a candle.  
  
Finally, she opened her mouth to thank them, but even before her tongue had formed around the words, Crowley was nodding towards the door. It almost seemed like this was the cue the older man had been waiting for.  
  
"Thank you so much for your hospitality, my dear," he said softly, grasping her hand with both of his, just as how vicars used to when she had been a little girl. "You have truly gifted us with something special and I can not thank you enough." At this Rachel tried not to snort, because if someone had been given something extraordinary, well, it hadn't been them. "I hope you don't mind me asking, I do apologise for intruding on your hospitality, but do you by any chance know where we can find a nice restaurant? Maybe-"  
  
"We are not stopping to eat, Aziraphale."  
  
"Maybe even- of course we are- a bakery?"  
  
Rachel hurried to offer a few places, hoping that they will leave as soon as possible. It's not that they didn't seem nice, once a person got over the whole sugar father thing, they did look like a, well, she couldn't say _normal_, could she. They looked like a couple. They were both very kind. Very eccentric, but, nonetheless, kind. But still, Rachel was the type of person who got antsy if one of her programs got delayed by a few minutes by a special news report.  
  
Thankfully, she did not hear the exchange between the men as they exited the shop. That would have possibly shocked her more than that time John came back from the shop with salted butter instead of the normal, unsalted one they typically used.  
  
"'You don't deal with money?' Could you act any more weird, angel?"  
  
"Well, it _is_ true. It's not as if I could say I just miracle everything I need."  
  
"Right, right. And that has nothing to do with the fact that_ I_ buy you everything else."  
  
"Oh, shush now, dear. Don't pretend like you don't love it."  
  
"Do you even know the currency? Right now, this second, in Britain, what do they use?"  
  
"Is it- is it perhaps francs?"  
  
"Fr- Satan help me. Yo- It's pounds. How do you not _know_ this?"  
  
"Are you positive? I was quite certain it was francs?"  
  
"I swear you will be the death of me. It's been pounds for centuries now. Honestly, angel."  
  
Well, she did hear parts of it, but the words passed through her mind like a breeze, unable to leave their imprint, their meaning lost in the forest that was the woman's consciousness.  
  
She thought about everything that had happened in her shop and then recalled the way Marielle had described the men's apparent relationship. However, there was one thing that was pestering her.  
  
_Who_ had her friend said was the sugar father?

**Author's Note:**

> It was honestly so much fun writing an outside POV. Hope you liked it!
> 
> Edit: Hey guys, just wanted to let you know I have finally started the Tumblr. [Here it is](https://waitingtobebroken.tumblr.com/) if you want to come cry with me about Ineffable Idiots


End file.
